Blood Bonds
Authors Note:
Thank You Thank You Thank you for the reviews. I'm always on pins and needles to see what you guys think. A word of caution, this chapter is a little dark. Spike is an evil Vampire, and the road to redemption is not all peaches and daisies. There are some derogatory comments about Angel's soul in here. This is just how I think that Spike might feel about it. I don't think that Angel has no hope of redemption or is weak, these are Spike's thoughts not mine. He's only been batting for the winning team for a week. Please keep an open mind and tell me what you think, especially about Angel's character. My next chapter will be a little more Spuffy luv and a little more plot.
Eternity trickled by in slow seconds and timid minutes. When Buffy was certain that she would burst Angel's low slung car finally turned into her drive. Cordelia was driving. She walked around to the passenger side and opened the door and a cloaked figure dashed to the house under a smoldering blanket. Angel was pulling a William. Buffy had no time to smile about the little joke though; she flung open the door, whispered an invite and hauled Angel inside. She even repressed the desire to slam the door in Cordelia's face.
"Can you feel him?" She asked without preamble. Angel didn't answer. He stood stupidly in front of the door, just staring at her. "Well? Can you tell where Spike is? I really don't understand about the whole vampy bond thingy." Buffy couldn't keep the sharp bite of impatience out of her voice. An hour, they had taken him a little over an hour ago.
"What? How? I mean Buffy he's all over you?" Buffy put her hands on her hips and gave him her best glower. Was he planning on helping or just sitting there rambling? "When? How long have you been mated? It isn't even possible with a human? What the hell were you thinking Buffy? Spike is a dangerous killer!"
Buffy felt like screaming. Couldn't he just answer the fucking question? "Prophecy, End of the World, Spell gone Wonky, Hell God trying to kill us! Blah Blah Blah. I'll explain later. Spike is being tortured right now! For me! I can't feel where he is because of some spell or another and I need to get him out!"
"Geez, Chill Buffy, it's just Spike." Cordelia gave her patent eye roll and Buffy lunged at her. Lucky for her, Angel caught her before Buffy could pound her face in. She was so not in the mood for Cordelia's 0 to Bitch in 90 seconds routine.
"Buffy, I can't feel him as strong as I should be able to. But I have no doubt that I can track him after the sun goes down. We'll find him and we'll get him out. I've got to talk to Rupert. Try not to kill or maim anyone." Somehow just hearing someone say that they would find him calmed her. She went to pacing, pretending she couldn't hear Giles and Angel talking in hushed quiet whispers. Giles explaining what was going on and Angel demanding to know why he wasn't called earlier. The wait was excruciating.
Finally the sun sank in a fiery ball below the horizon. Buffy was reminded of another time she had waited for the sun to sink, just a few days ago. How had everything changed so fast? Buffy left Anya and Giles with her mom and Dawn. Angel said he couldn't really feel Spike, but he could smell him. So they set off on foot the way that Buffy had ran in the first place. Angel led the way, Buffy dogging his heels. Faith, Cordelia, Willow and Xander followed in a loose knot. Buffy told them that the priority was getting Spike out so as soon as he was free, they were to get out as quick as possible. They needed a better plan before they took on Glory in earnest. Buffy was a nervous ball of energy. Spike was fading in and out of consciousness. Please Please Please let him be ok.
Just after the point that Buffy had stopped before when she was chasing after her mate, Angel turned left. He trotted along without hesitation. When she asked if he was sure they were going the right way; Angel gave her an inscrutable look and said that the smell of Spike's blood was heavy on the air. She almost wished she hadn't asked. Angel led them on a twisting journey through the streets, ending in the warehouse district. Poor Cordelia was huffing and puffing like the little engine that couldn't. Willow and Xander weren't doing much better. Buffy felt a burst of love for her friends that they would push themselves so hard for her. She had no illusions that anyone but her, and maybe Angel, was here for Spike.
They stood in front of an old abandoned building. Angel was balanced on the balls of his feet, completely focused. "He's definitely in there." He said quietly. "What are the odds that this is a trap?"
"Why would they cloak the bond if they wanted me to come after him?" She asked. It was nice, side by side with Angel about to do some serious Slaying. She missed having him with her at times like this. Oh God. This was a moment of clarity. She missed his companionship; she missed his back-up. But she no longer missed his kisses. Buffy almost wept with the realization that the desperate flame she had carried for Angel had finally smoldered out. To be replaced by a craving that could very well consume her completely. She needed to be careful with her heart. So Careful.
"We're going in regardless." Angel replied with a shrug. It was one of the things she admired about him. Cool composure in the face of the odds. They skirted the direct path of the windows and edged closer to the building. The front door was one of those heavy steal numbers, with an impressive looking lock mechanism. Angel ruthlessly twisted the handle and wretched the door open.
They were met by Spike, stumbling down the hall, completely oblivious to their presence and being chased by short little henchmen in brown robes. Angel sprung past Spike quicker then she could blink and made quick work of the two little men in the hall. Buffy slipped under one of Spike's rather bloody arms and took his weight onto her shoulders. She felt blood spray over her back and stared for a minute at the horrible pattern it made on the wall, but she didn't turn around and look. She was pretty sure those two men had been human. The moment she touched her mate she felt the thin veil between them lift and took a deep painful breath as her echo of his pain became more intense. Glory was going to die a long painful death.
Angel swept Spike up into his arms like a sack of potatoes and they ran outside. Buffy could hear Glory shrieking for them to come back with her Vampire. Buffy whipped around, regardless of what she had told the others, Spike was hers! Xander yanked on the hood of her sweater, pulling her off balance and stumbling. He was right. She ran with the others, feet pounded heavily on the blacktop. They were not followed.
Spike was being carried by strong muscular arms that seemed vaguely familiar. Buffy was close to him, their bond no longer shielded. He took a deep breath to catch her scent and was assaulted by another scent. A scent of home and family and power. The scent of Angelus. Spike was obviously hallucinating. He carefully kept his eyes closed and deliberately kept from breathing. Christ his bloody body hurt. He felt like Martha Stewart on a bender. Seriously twisted out of shape.
He was shifted and bounced rather roughly. Judging by the scent around him they were headed up the stairs of Buffy's mum's house. A soft woman's voice, Joyce, asked after him and was sent away. Spike hitched his breath when he was deposited onto his mate's bed. The door clicked shut with an air of finality. Spike could smell rage all over his sire. The question was: who was he mad at? That Glory Cunt, Him, or Buffy? Probably all three, he was right steamed. Angelus pulled his bloody shirt away from his body and Spike had to bite his lip to keep from making a sound of agony. "What the hell have you been doing to my Childe?" Angelus snarled angrily. Okay, pissed at Buffy then.
"What do you mean?" Buffy's voice was soft and wounded. He could feel her confusion coming from the bond. Had Angelus ever spoken to her that way? Probably not, especially since he was toting around his shiny soul.
"Look at him! That stab wound is at least 20 hours old! He looks like he's been used for a punching bag for at least a week!" Angelus punched something; there was a dry crunching sound. Most likely punched the wall. "Jesus Christ Buffy! Is that a stake wound? What the Fuck have you been doing to my Childe?" His voice was loud, harsh, and angry.
"I…There have been assassins. Some pink thing, and Vampire's and Faith…We've both been hurt." Buffy was rattled to say the least. He felt her overwhelming concern for him, her fear and affection. And her confusion. She didn't really understand, Angelus had probably led her to believe that he hated his Childe. But Angelus had always reserved the right to punish him for himself. Regardless of everything, they were family. Spike had been the favorite Child for over two decades; he and Angelus had been very close, in a violent love hate sort of relationship.
"YOU LET THAT FAITH WHORE STAB HIM AND SHE'S STILL IN THIS HOUSE?" Angelus Bellowed! Buffy let out a surprised sound and Spike realized with a shock that he had started towards her. Spike found himself quite grateful that his Sire had something else to be pissed about besides him shagging his girl six ways from Sunday.
"That's enough Angelus." His voice came out raspy and wounded, not at all strong like he needed it to be. He hated for Angelus to see him like this, bruised, battered, broken. It was a shame that he couldn't at least sound strong and authoritative. Spike cracked his eyes open, wincing at the harsh light in the room, gauging his Sire's reaction to his given name. He liked to be called that Nancy boy name now, Angel. But he was still Angelus, no matter what he liked to pretend. Both sets of eyes in the room snapped to him, both concerned. At least before Angelus masked all emotion behind that tight mask he wore all the time now. "Leave her be."
The older Vampire gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and walked close to the bed. He seemed to consider for a moment and Spike made sure to maintain eye contact. Rather stupid of him to provoke the Alpha male that way but he couldn't help it, blatant disregard for the safe approach was just part of him. Angelus's lips turned up in the barest of smiles, he knew Spike was challenging him and found it funny, a gravely growl escaped Spike's dry scratchy throat. Quicker than thought Spike found himself repositioned, leaning up against his Sire's broad chest, cradled in the vee of his muscular thighs. Angelus held his venerable wrist to his Childe's lips and Spike let out a hungry sound before he could stop himself. "Trying to fatten me up before I'm led to Slaughter?"
Apparently Angelus's indulgence was at an end because he twisted his hand roughly in Spike's hair pushing his face into the wrist. "Drink the Fucking Blood, William." Spike hesitated, trying to judge just how far he could push the other Vampire. Angelus twisted his hair ruthlessly and Spike Vamped and bit into the soft pale skin. Didn't know why he was making a big deal out of it anyway, it was in his best interest. Hot, Rich, Powerful Sire's blood flooded his mind and senses. It numbed his pain and heightened his perceptions. "Wouldn't my blood help him more?" Buffy questioned from beside the bed. She had moved closer to it. He met her eyes even as he sucked greedily from the jagged wound he had left on his Sire's wrist. Tosser shouldn't have yanked on his hair so hard.
Spike frowned around the wrist in his mouth when the Slayer's gaze left him and focused on Angelus instead. "No, Sire's blood is best." He replied, voice soft and soothing, his emotions apparently back on that annoying even keel. Buffy gazed at him, concern and love evident in her gaze. The way that she would never look at Spike, no matter what he did, because he was an evil soulless git. Spike shifted, uncomfortable with the jealousy rushing through his system. Unsure of just who he was jealous of. He could feel Angelus's hardness against his backside, which was why he was in his lap. Fact was bloodletting was an incredible aphrodisiac, wouldn't want the Slayer to see the effect his Childe was having on him. "Enough William"
Without thought Spike slit his tongue with his fangs, and ran his soothing blood over the wound he had made. A shudder ran through Angelus at the sensation and Spike cursed himself for a bloody wanker, shoving the arm roughly from his mouth. Old habits die hard. And if the Git called him William again he was going to rip his sodding head off. It was a little late to be playing sire games now, a hundred bloody years too late. Truth was he felt fifty times better but he'd hang himself on a cross and wait for dawn before he'd say thank you. Spike struggled to his feet and his sire did nothing to stop him, Buffy grasped his arm as if to hold him up. He'd admit that he was weak as a day old infant but he pulled himself from her grasp anyway. He also ignored the hurt expression on her face. He'd make it up to her later, That is if she let him touch her. She reeked of guilt, now that she had been reminded of the magnificent pouf and his shiny soul.
"Feeling the pull of family Angelus? Decided to come tend to your responsibilities?" His sire winced visibly and turned his head. But Spike never did know when to quit, and keeping his mouth shut wasn't his strong suit. He drew in a sharp breath at the pain of tight leather on his bruised knuckles as he fished around in his pocket. He hissed out loud when he brushed cold metal, he grasped the chain and pulled it from his pocket. Angelus surged to his feet and they both stood mesmerized for a moment by the spinning charm. Drusilla's cross. She'd worn it the day she was turned. Angelus had thought it was funny to leave it on her to burn her when she rose. He'd had to take it away from her; she wouldn't quit burning herself with the damn thing. Spike flung it hard but his infuriating elder caught the damn thing before it could brand his face. "You have other responsibilities." Spike hissed.
Buffy was brimming with concern and confusion. She took his arm again and he leaned into her instinctively. It just came so natural. He turned his head to breathe in her scent for a moment and was overwhelmed by her sweet smell of her hair. His demon melted away at her nearness and his body swayed closer to soak up more of her heat. Christ she made him dizzy. Or maybe it was all the torture. One could never be sure. "There is nothing that can be done for Dru, you know that Spike."
Angelus's voice had a sharp edge, he knew him well enough to know that it was time to drop the subject. His head swiveled back to pin Angelus with a glare. "She needs to be watched, I can't right now." Spike carefully did not look in Buffy's direction but he felt her stiffen beside him. Strong currents of jealousy almost overwhelmed her concern. And the confusion was gone. She knew who they were talking about now. Hadn't he told her that Drusilla was lost to him? Didn't she understand that Dru would never take second fiddle? After Buffy, that was all he could offer. "She might decide to frolic in the sunlight, or forget to eat, or burn herself with crosses. What's the matter Peaches?
Helping your own creation doesn't even the score any in the quest for redemption?" His voice had a bit of bitter edge to it as well.
Angelus wore that lost puppy expression that was new since the soul. The "why is everyone picking on me?" look. The look that signified everything that was different now. The look that Spike hated. "I came here to help you Spike." Wrong tactic "Daddy". No Soul, no remorse, so guilt trip 67 wasn't going to work.
"Yeah so long as it doesn't tarnish your shiny soul. Tell me Peaches, does helping the undead count? Can you put up a mark on the good deed's side of the scoreboard? What are you behind now, 3 million?" Spike swayed embarrassingly, so he threw himself into Buffy's vanity chair in a lazy sprawl. "Well, you've done your civic duty, and I'm knackered so you can piss off now." Spike watched Angelus closely; he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He'd bet dollars to donuts that the old man was counting to ten. The other Vampire relaxed by bits, until his hands hung loose at his sides.
"What do you need, painkillers?" His voice was soft and even. God he hated that, Spike wanted to push his buttons, rattle him.
"I told you what I need. Your soul damage your hearing? Need things repeated now, like a three day old fledgling?"
His jaw clenched and his large hands formed tight fists. "I can't harbor a cold blooded killer Spike, Dru would never be able to fit in with my lifestyle now." Voice still soft and even.
"Dru'll do whatever "Daddy" tells her to." Angelus roared. He spun away from both of them, exposing his back. Before the soul Angelus would never have turned his back on him. Angel was a fool. A weeping, pansy ass, fool, staggering under the weight of a two hundred year old soul that could never be redeemed. He could try for all eternity, he was still a Vampire. A thing so evil and vile that the heavens wept. Forever banned to the darkness, animated by stealing the blood of others. The soul didn't change his name and it didn't change what he was. It just made him weak.
"Buffy, why do you put up with him? Is he killing?" His voice was still even. Gods, he hated that composure.
"No" Her answer was simple. Without adornment, spoken in a firm unwavering voice. Had to admire the girl. His girl. Hell of a spine she had.
Angelus spun back to them, almost wearing a sneer before he could school his features to careful blandness once again. "And you believe him?"
"He hasn't left my side." His sire visibly flinched. Surely he could smell him all over the Slayer. All over her room. Spike couldn't help his smirk. But it didn't matter who was shagging her, Angelus still won. He had made a slayer fall in love with him, and she loved him still. His smirk turned sour and he shifted uncomfortably. What he really needed was to dive into Buffy's warm bed and stay there for three days. Heal up good so they could get to slaying evil hell god's who liked to fuck with him.
"Spike, what did Glory want with you?" Buffy's voice was gentle, in no way accusing. He flinched anyway.
"Well first she wanted to know who the key was. Then she wanted me dead so that she could defeat you without problem. I told you we needed to stick together."
In true Buffy fashion his mate ignored most of what he said. "Did you tell her about Dawn?" She had an almost desperate air about her and Spike hated the fear oozing through her. Angelus left on silent feet and with his withdrawal Spike took a deep calming breath and relaxed. He rose and limped to the bed, falling heavily into the sweet softness of Buffy's pillows.
"No luv, I didn't tell her. But she knew it had become human. Maybe it would be a good idea to send the family off with Peaches to LA. Least till we can kill the soddin' Bitch. I'd prefer her in little bloody bits, I'll bathe in her blood, I'll do the bloody backstroke…"
Buffy sat on the bed with him and he drew in a sharp hiss when her weight jarred his broken bones. She started to flit away, guilty, but he reached out and grabbed her hand pulling her back down next to him. She reached out hesitantly, touching his bruised and battered face. "Do you think it's safe to move them, it might advertise just who the key is if we try to get someone out of the city."
"Don't know luv. She's scary powerful, but those prophecies of Rupert's say we can defeat her. We just have to figure out how. She doesn't know everything or she wouldn't have to resort to torture to get information." Buffy gave him a wry look.
"I couldn't find you. I had to call Angel. He came right away; you don't have to give him such a hard time." Spike looked away from her, pain and jealousy washing over him. He wished he could keep that from her. She gave him one of those sympathetic looks that made him want to snarl and growl.
"If I didn't take the piss out of him he'd think I was mad at him." Buffy gave a low sexy laugh and Spike found himself regretting that he was in no condition to shag her. Make the bloody pouf listen while he made Buffy scream and beg in pleasure. His girl lay down beside him, one hand light on his stomach. Gods she was beautiful. Gods his body hurt. He'd give his left arm for some Lady Caine, or China White, or anything really. He hated to say it but if it weren't for the sire's blood he probably wouldn't even be able to keep consciousness. He was seriously tore up. Buffy dozed and he drifted in and out. He was in far too much pain to actually get any real rest.
Spike felt a Vampire approaching the bedroom and stiffened, even though he knew it was Angelus. Buffy's bug sense, or whatever she called it, clued her in and her eyes snapped open. They both watched the doors, bodies coiled tight, until Angel came in silently, holding a man up by the arm. He was scrawny and wild eyed, gaze darting around the room wildly, heart beating out a marathon in his bony chest. Spike could smell the substances on him, marijuana and something else he couldn't place.
"All I could find was some morphine." Spike climbed slowly to his feet, in painful little lurches. Buffy sat up behind him, eyes wide with confusion. Fact was that Vampire's bodies only processed blood, so the only way to take in a drug was through someone else's blood. To say he was shocked that the Golden Soul Boy had actually brought him a live someone was the understatement of the year. There was a moment of hesitation before Angel shoved the man roughly in his direction. "He walks away from here William."
His sire's voice was cold and without emotion. He had no doubt that the older Vampire would kill to save this man's worthless life. He pulled the man close, breathing in his fear and confusion. Angelus had obviously not explained in detail what would be required of him. He looked the man in the eyes and vamped. His eyes went wide and he struggled a bit but Spike didn't waste time, he bit shallow and drank deep. Maybe the guy would think he had a bad dream. Buffy leapt to her feet in outrage. "What the hell do you think you're doing Angel? He can't drink that man! What are you doing?" She shrieked when Angelus grabbed her arm and hauled her back from Spike.
"He needs this." The older Vampire had his head cocked, carefully listening to the man's heartbeat. He needed have bothered, he wouldn't kill in front of Buffy, she would never stand for it. Buffy squeaked indignantly and ripped her arm free; she had barely started towards them when Spike released his victim. The drugs hit his system in a rush and he fell back on the bed in blissful relief. Angel whipped out his wallet and began to count out twenty's. "I've got to see him out."
Buffy was in her Slayer stance, arms crossed, eyes flashing. She was magnificent. "This isn't over Angel."
"I know." He replied before ghosting away, shaking boy in hand.
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